Marked
by Czigany
Summary: James Vega is an incorrigible flirt. Zaeed Massani is not impressed. Commander Shepard finds it amusing. Kmeme fill and somewhat sequel to Following Orders. ME3, F!Shep/Zaeed. One-shot, complete.


**Disclaimer:** _Mass Effect_ is the property of Bioware, Microsoft Game Studios, and Electronic Arts. I am none of these, and as such make no money from this venture.

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"Hey, maybe we should get matching?"

Shepard raised her eyebrows at his blatant flirting, but before she could even open her mouth to respond there was an amused snort from just out of sight. Her bright eyes slid to her right and a smirk twitched the corner of her mouth. His own brows furrowed and he was about to ask what was so funny when the unmistakable sound of armoured feet on steel brought a scarred mercenary into sight.

James Vega might play the cocky musclehead, but he sure as hell wasn't stupid. Zaeed Massani was confident, deadly, and entirely focussed on the woman standing before him. "Bit late for that line, innit Shepard?"

That gravelly, accented voice had the Lieutenant's hackles raised but he kept his mouth shut when his Commander faced the mercenary fully, one hip cocked and her arms folded over her delicious chest. "I wouldn't call those _matching_, Massani."

Zaeed chuckled, that unnerving white eye turned towards their silent audience as he ostensibly made small talk with the Hero of the Citadel. A few unnecessary pleasantries later and she apparently decided the time for small talk was over. Smirking openly now, Shepard leaned closer to taunt, "Whenever you're ready to come back to the _Normandy_, Massani, I've got a cargo bay all set aside for you. I even put in a display case just for Jessie."

"Thought I'd wrangled a better berth than that." He thought the man sounded a little put out, slouching slightly and crossing his arms almost petulantly.

"Depends on how good you are at following orders," she laughed, "and whether or not you still like red."

James knew there must be a story behind that, given the way Zaeed straightened and dropped his arms again, matching her smirk. When she turned to head back to the ship, he noticed for the first time the fingers of ink that peeked from the collar of Shepard's fatigues to crawl up the side of her neck.

"See you later, Lieutenant," she called over her shoulder, almost as an afterthought.

He offered a weak wave in return before glancing back up at the mercenary who was watching his Commander saunter away with a decidedly feral grin. Those mismatched eyes met his for a brief moment and the grin deepened. Zaeed chuckled before striding purposefully after those swaying hips. "I wouldn't count on it, kid."

She would never know how he'd reached the ship before her, but as soon as she'd stepped into her quarters, Shepard found herself with her back flat against the wall across from EDI's console. Zaeed pinned her hands behind her, one knee wedged between her thighs as he tipped her head up to claim her mouth roughly. She stole her breath between hard kisses, not making more than a token struggle to free her wrists from his grasp.

"Six months and a young LT have you worried, Massani?" she panted when he finally left her mouth to nip at her throat.

"Seems like you got a thing for 'em," he growled back against her ear. "Even when you know they can't satisfy you."

Whatever witty reply she had lined up was replaced with a groan as he adjusted slightly and pressed his armoured thigh against her core. In a display of welcome flexibility, Shepard pressed her shoulders to the wall and twisted until she'd hooked both legs around his hips.

Zaeed released her hands, only to slice her shirt and bra open with a practiced move of his omniblade. "You're bad for my wardrobe," she groaned as he palmed her breasts roughly, calloused fingers tweaking her nipples.

"It ain't red, I don't care," he chuckled back.

Unlatching his chestplate with a few deft clicks, he shrugged out of it impatiently. His undershirt and the remains of her tops joined it on the floor. She zeroed in on his tattoos, tracing the edges across his chest with her fingers as she covered his oldest ink with her mouth and sucked hard.

"Shoulda known you only put up with the kid for his decorations," he growled in her ear.

Too fast for her to follow, he'd released his codpiece, lifted her just enough to slice through her trousers, and impaled her on his cock. She cried out in surprise, drowning his own groan of approval. Zaeed set a brutal pace, pounding her into the wall and bruising her hips with his armour. She gasped and clutched at his shoulders, arms, anything she could reach to give her leverage, leaving red welts as she scored her nails across his skin.

The unforgiving tempo was more than Shepard could bear and she tightened around him, sinking her teeth into his unmarked shoulder. Her nails raked his back as she came, tracking along the eight parallel black lines of his newest tattoo. He kept moving, pushing into her and drawing out her orgasm until, with a last snap of his hips, he spilled inside her.

She sagged against him with bone-deep satisfaction. "I think I'll go raid the Alliance for a few more Lieutenants if this is what it gets me."

"One per ship," he growled back, "and then I start using them for target practice."

Her breathless laughter quickly turned to moans as the mercenary set about reminding her just whose mark was on her shoulder.


End file.
